


Whouffaldi One Shots

by inkypaws



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Angst, Character Death, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Kinky, Pain, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Power Play, Sad, Shameless Smut, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-28
Updated: 2015-08-07
Packaged: 2018-03-03 23:52:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2892680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inkypaws/pseuds/inkypaws
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This will be a collection of tumblr prompts that I have received. It will range from explicit to fluff and will cover a wide range of beautiful Whouffaldi moments :D</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prompt 1: Little Kisses

**Author's Note:**

> PROMPT 1: from the wonderful ckeichan
> 
> I am wondering if you would be interested in writing about about the kiss on the cheek scene? Like Clara doesn’t just stop at that one kiss…she gets a little a head of herself and starts kissing the Doctor on his forehead, his nose, his chin, his brow, his cheek bones…etc. and the Doctor just sitting there not knowing what to do and then finally Clara pauses and looks at him and ask “so you’re just going to sit there and not return the favour?” and the rest is smutty history….
> 
> So I took this and ran with it XD

Clara thought she was dreaming again, she had to be - a dream within a dream within a dream or… something - because in all of her best dreams, it started like this. She and The Doctor alone in her bedroom; his eyes on her, her eyes on him and then hands on each other and lips on each other and then clothes vanishing and contact taking its place.

But the ice-cream pain in her head was gone, really, truly gone, and The Doctor was there, at the foot of her bed. Not touching her, not kissing her, just looking at her. Talking to her. And while he spoke Clara didn’t listen, she couldn’t listen. The words meant nothing, all that mattered was that he was _here_ her impossible, crazy man had returned to her and this time it was real.

“The TARDIS is outside,” he said.

And Clara nearly laughed. _The TARDIS._ She’d never thought she’d see the old girl again, but really the bluebox didn’t matter, as long as her Doctor was here, nothing else mattered. “So?”

The Doctor was wringing his hands together. “So all of time and all of space is sitting out there in a big blue box.” Now he was at the foot of her bed and Clara couldn’t breathe. “ _Please,”_ he said and Clara was nearly sure he’d never had to use that word before. “Don’t even argue.”

And then he was leaning toward her, leaning over the foot of her bed with his hand extended and his eyes peering into hers. Open and honest and not a single trace of deception in them – and if Clara hadn’t known before, she knew now. It was always The Doctor and it had _never_ been anyone else; in every dream, in every fantasy, in every world it was always she and he running. Together, hand in hand. And even in their dreams, they’d risked their lives for each other, they’d said goodbye to Danny Pink – the last good thing tying her to Earth – and now all that was left was them. No point in holding back now; the universe was waiting.

Clara smiled; probably the first time she’d smiled in months, and she took his hand. Feeling the warmth of his skin in her palm and it wasn’t enough so she pulled him forward and planted a kiss on his cheek. “Merry Christmas, Doctor.”

And she wasn’t expecting to think _that_ wasn’t enough either. But the feel of him under her lips had been warm, safe, natural and oh so tempting. She nearly managed to push her desire further down, to ignore the urge to make one of her many salacious dreams come true but then he spoke and all hope went out the window.

“Merry Christmas, Clara Oswald.”

And it was his voice that gave him away. It was deep – deeper than usual – and told her that no matter what he might say, his thoughts were in a slightly more risqué place.

They stared at each other. All of time and all of space waiting outside, but neither wanting to leave this moment in her bedroom. And then Clara was moving again, leaning in and kissing his forehead; nervously – slowly.  She expected him to jump up, tell her off, or even just pull back, but he did nothing except squeeze her hand tighter.

Then Clara kissed his nose and decided she loved the way he wrinkled it when she was done. And it still wasn’t enough, so she kissed his chin and then the little ridge between his glorious eyebrows and then her free hand was caressing his cheek, tracing the lines she’d then touch with her lips. And his eyes were closed and his breathing was ragged, so with trembling mouth she kissed each eyelid, but it still wasn’t enough and Clara could have kept this up for hours, learning his face, knowing each line and wrinkle.

But then The Doctor cleared his throat and opened his eyes. They were liquid blue, molten sapphires that burned into her soul and spoke of a million, thousand, untold thoughts he’d had about her but daren’t act out. “Clara,” he said, slowly and deliberately. “What are we doing?”

And she nearly danced. It wasn’t a refusal or a rebuttal. Clara smiled and ran her thumb over his cheek. “It’s nothing. Just little kisses… and anyway, _you_ are yet to do anything, Doctor. Are you just going to sit there and not return the favour?”

He looked at her for a long time then and for one horrible moment when he started to stand; she thought he was going to leave her again. She thought he was going to walk away, get back into his TARDIS and then she’d wake up alone again – but that is _not_ what happened next. The Doctor, the man of all limbs and eyebrows, clambered onto her bed and settled on his knees. Clara couldn’t help but think if she just uncrossed her legs and laid back, he’d practically be straddling her.

“Clara Oswald,” he said, running his eyes over her.

She was breathy, eager. “Yes?”

“All of time and all of space,” he brought their still interlocked hands up to his lips and kissed them. “Yet you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve seen.” And Clara could have cried. Maybe she did, maybe they were tears of relief, maybe they were tears of joy. She didn’t care. “Close your eyes,” he said softly, and she obeyed.

He let go of her hand and cupped her face instead, his fingertips teased her temples and his palms caressed her cheeks. Then, as she did earlier, he kissed her face. First her forehead and she had to resist the urge to sink forward into his chest. Then her nose and that time she couldn’t stop the giggle that burst from her – it was a nervous giggle, an excited one. His lips found the little ridge between her eyebrows, and then he slid his hands down to her shoulders so he could kiss each one of her cheeks.

And then – “don’t open your eyes, Clara.”

So gentle it almost didn’t feel real The Doctor touched his lips to hers. To anyone else it would have felt fleeting, sweet, but Clara knew The Doctor and those were not nerves, not anymore anyway, that was a tease. Then as if to prove she was right, he did it again. This time slightly harder, daring to graze his teeth along her bottom lip.

Clara was a mess of emotions. She wanted to open her eyes, pounce on him and finally, _finally,_ have him in every way she could come up with. The knot in her stomach was growing tighter and every sensation was becoming more and more heightened - he was killing her with all those little kisses and she wasn’t going to have it.

Using her senses alone Clara reached up and before he knew what was coming, her hand was on the back of his neck and she was pulling him down, landing a kiss right on his mouth. The Doctor was slow to respond to the sudden change in power, but when he did, _oh_ when he did, Clara felt it. She parted her lips a little and he found the opening, exploring the kiss with an eager gentleness. She couldn’t quite place what he tasted like – tangerines? Coffee? Chocolate? _Perfection._

And then before she knew it he was moving her back, laying her down and coming with her. The kiss was broken and Clara gulped down air, opening her eyes to find The Doctor right there on top of her. Their foreheads were touching, both of them were panting out of sync and Clara realised that this time The Doctor really was straddling her. “You’re wearing too many clothes,” she accused, suddenly feeling his eyes burning through her thin little nightie and resting on her most aroused areas. She began to unzip his hoodie, but he stopped her.

“Tonight is not about me being undressed,” he was insistent and now as he spoke each word was separated by a fleeting kiss he’d place somewhere on her face. “This is about you so… just see me,” he brushed a stay bit of hair out of her eyes, “just watch me do this to you – _for_ you.”

And then he was kissing her again. He started on her mouth, letting her learn the rhythm of his movements to come, and then he kissed along her jaw line stopping to graze his teeth along a particularly sensitive spot behind her ear. Clara wasn’t ashamed that her heavy breathing had turned into gentle sighs; she wasn’t ashamed that her toes were curling at the mere thought of what was to come. The Doctor left a fiery trail of kisses down the side of her neck and when he reached her collarbone he began to speak between each touch of his lips to her skin.

Clara didn’t recognise the language – it could have been Gallifreyan, it could have been Latin… hell, it could have been Scottish. She didn’t care because the way his deep brogue rolled over the ‘r’ and brushed over the s’ was enough to send her head whirring. Plus she was convinced that every now and then her own name found it’s way into the jumble of foreign words and _my God,_ did it sound sexy.

She’d been so occupied with holding back her release that Clara hadn’t noticed while he’d been kissing her his hands had been working on the buttons of her nightie. It was only when The Doctor blew, ever so gently, a warm breath along the valley of her breasts that she realised she was nearly, entirely exposed to him. A crazy moment of fear hit her – what if he didn’t like what he saw? What if she didn’t match up to the many women he must have had over the years? But then he said her name.

“Clara…” he had that look of wonderment about him – like when he found a new star, or didn’t know the answer to a puzzle, or when the TARDIS was playing up and he couldn’t quite get her to co-operate with him. “Clara, Clara, Clara…”

She would of answered him, nearly did, but then he was back on her, around her, across her and all thought went out the window. Clara bucked against him when his warm lips found her nipple - she meant to say his name, but it came out more as a cry, or a moan… or something in between. And she could feel his arousal pressing between her thighs but no matter how much she writhed or wriggled the friction wasn’t enough. Every inch of his long body was touching her, pressing her, but it still _wasn’t enough._ Any moment now the knot in her tummy was going to untie and she’d be done for.

“Doctor?” she asked – pleaded.

The Doctor let go of her breast and sat up - it did nothing except increase the pressure of him between her legs - but shook his head. “No Clara.”

“But I’m going to-“

He flashed her a wicked grin. “That’s the point.” The Doctor’s eyes landed on the white cotton of her knickers and she for a moment she thought he was going to faint. Then he locked eyes with her. “Besides, it’s nothing. Just little kisses.”

Clara noticed how his hand trembled when he ran it across the flat of her stomach, how he wasn’t as elegant as he had been when he hooked his thumbs under the hem of her underwear and moved it down. _Now_ he was nervous. And she noticed how he had that wide-eyed look again, and how his breathing had got heavier or how he had to keep licking his lips to stop his mouth from going dry.

But then he leaned forward and, ever so softly, began to pepper kisses along her pelvis. After that Clara stopped noticing altogether. Holding onto her sides – for support, for reassurance, for kicks? – He kept kissing her there, each one getting longer and lower and so much more torturous. When he finally introduced his tongue to her skin, Clara knew she didn’t have much longer before she came.

He lapped at her, seeming lost in the wonder that she was - is. Lost in the wonder that this was really happening, that she was really letting him do this after all those nights of dreaming and wishing and hoping. Clara wanted to reach down between her legs and grab his hair, to help guide him to where it felt the best, but every time she tried to unhook her fingers from the bed sheets he’d hit a particularly sweet spot and her grip would only get tighter. 

Clara was undulating under him. No matter how close she got it still wasn’t close enough. She wanted her release, _needed_ it and he seemed just what to do in order to dangle her right over the edge but not let her fall. And then Clara managed to raise her hips a little higher which gave The Doctor all new kinds of access and that was all it took. The sensations were overwhelming.

She cried out his name as all the muscles in her body tensed and then snapped at once in the most beautifully relieving way. The Doctor held onto her while she rode out her orgasm, only managing to pull himself away from the space between her legs when he was sure she was completely finished. The Doctor crawled back up her body, being sure to rest his still very prominent bulge between her legs and then he kissed her. It was hard, triumphant, and grateful. Clara could taste herself on his tongue and was surprised to find it wasn’t such a bad thing. She deepened the kiss, only stopping when her head was spinning from lack of air.

Eventually Doctor rolled off her and Clara took a moment to regain some semblance of thought. Had that really just happened? If it had Clara couldn’t believe her luck and if it hadn’t and it was still just a dream, she never wanted to wake up. She could do that with him every day and never get bored, she could do that with him every day and each time fall in love with him a little more. It was a scary thought, but one she was totally prepared to tackle.

When she looked across at him, she couldn’t help but chuckle. His lips were still glistening, his eyes were wide and staring in awe, and his hair was so sticking out all over the place. The usually suave Doctor looked thoroughly worn out. Clara took his hand and loved how he still, even after all they’d just done, looked amazed at the simple touch. “So… all of time and all of space?”

He nodded, but made no attempt to stand. The Doctor then looked across at her. “Tell me Clara, do you still have that ice-cream pain in your head?”

She smiled. She didn’t – he knew she didn’t, but it was his way of saying shall we call this a dream and speak no more of it. “No,” she said, squeezing his fingers. “Do you?”

“No,” then a pause while he looked her up and down. “You’re still naked.”

Clara gave him a wicked grin. “So I am.” And then before he could say anything else she was on him, straddling his waist the same way he’d done to her. She leaned forward, feeling his arousal push against her naked body.

The Doctor swallowed the lump in his throat. “Clara, you don’t have to-“

“Shh,” she said, giving him a quick kiss on the lips. Then as she began to toy with the zipper on his hoodie she whispered, “besides… this is nothing. Just little kisses.”


	2. Together, or Not at All

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What would happen if Clara and The Doctor were forced to part ways. For good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, warning. This is a angsty, sad whouffaldi fic which was inspired by ( this ). I was feeling kinda down and it inpired me to write something of similar inclination.  
> WARNING. NO HAPPY ENDING - KIND OF.

Clara brought her fist down on the TARDIS console - she brought it down over and over and over again until her knuckles were bruised. Then when that wasn’t enough she kicked it, nearly breaking her toes. And then she pulled out every wire she could find, snapped every knob and jammed every lever. She wanted to reach inside and pull the core of the TARDIS out, then stamp all over it until it was nothing but dust under her feet. 

“Clara, Clara stop!" 

"No!” She shouted, tears blurring her eyes. 

“Clara ruining the TARDIS wont solve anything-”

She cut him off by grabbing the TV screen he so often liked to look at and shaking it until it came loose. She wanted it to break away completely, to smash on the floor but she didn’t have the strength. She was exhausted and after a final burst of rage Clara found herself collapsed over the ruined TARDIS console, sobbing so hard her shoulders shook. Through her sniffs and coughs, she heard the clinking of metal behind her and though Clara could feel his eyes on her, willing her to turn around and let him comfort her - she wouldn’t, couldn’t, just yet. 

The Doctor had thought she didn’t know. He thought that she wouldn’t notice Missy creeping back into their world, but the truth was she’d put the pieces together way before he pretended to connect the dots. And she wasn’t sure what hurt worse. The Doctor saving Missy’s life even after she killed the one man on Earth who loved her, or The Doctor -  _her Doctor -_ lying to her even after all the happily intimate years they’d spent together on his ship since that fateful Christmas. 

So Clara confronted him, asked him if all the cybernetics popping back up in world after world linked to Missy. He said no. He lied again and that did it. They rowed and the relationship that had spent so many years in bliss broke down in seconds. It was like the snap Missy had been waiting for, because after that everything went wrong. 

Clara and The Doctor were making bad choices, letting the wrong people get away, not seeing the signs and doing nothing but watch as entire worlds burned behind them. Missy had caught them in a check mate and now it was too late. Missy destroyed The TARDIS, only leaving her with one command and enough fuel to carry it out. With The Doctor and Clara inside she sent the TARDIS to the heart of her cybernetics machine, to the darkest part of space where the evil machine resided. And Clara couldn’t work out why - why would she send them to the one thing that could reverse all reign of terror? 

So Clara asked The Doctor and he said he didn’t know - but he was a terrible liar and Clara could see it. So she lost her cool and handcuffed him to the rails, then while he watched she smashed up his beloved TARDIS. It didn’t make her feel better, but that wasn’t the point. 

“Clara,” The Doctor said, trying to coax her to look at him. 

“Why cant you just tell me what’s going on?” She said, wiping away the tears from her eyes. 

There was a long pause. “I don’t want to upset you." 

This time Clara gave him his wish and made eye contact. She whirled around and glared at him. "Don’t want to upset me?  _You don’t want to upset me?!_ It’s a bit late for that, Doctor. I thought that after all the time we’d spent together you could at least be honest. I mean, I knew you were a liar, but I didn’t think you could lie to  _me."_

The Doctor sighed. "It’s not that simple." 

Clara gave a bitter laugh. "Oh, of course. Because my human intelligence is far beneath your Timelord IQ. So come on then, try me.” When he didn’t reply, Clara felt another surge of pent up anger and returned to destroying the TARDIS console - maybe this time, she’d actually break the tv screen off, then maybe she’d set fire to his stupid chair. 

She was so focus on turning the TARDIS into a wreckage that she didn’t hear The Doctor undo one of the handcuffs and then come up behind her, so she screamed when he wrapped his arms around her, restraining her from doing anymore damage. “Let me go!” She hollered, fighting against him. 

But The Doctor held tight and after a few minutes he felt Clara sag against him and then, much to his horror, continue to cry. He wasn’t sure if he turned her around, or she turned herself around, but a moment later her face was pressed against his chest as she sobbed. “I want to say I’m s-sorry,” she hiccuped, “but I-I’m not… and, and for that I’m s-sorry." 

He ran a comforting hand up and down her back. The Doctor didn’t know what to say, a good boyfriend would say ‘it’s going to be okay’ or 'don’t worry’ but he wasn’t a good boyfriend and he couldn’t bring himself to say it - because nothing was okay, and they had everything to worry about. "Clara,” he eventually said, “I’ll tell you what’s going on, with one condition." 

She pulled away and looked up at him. He felt his hearts skip a beat - he still couldn’t believe the beautiful woman in front of him was his - had been his - for more years than he deserved. The Doctor, with some effort, left Clara there and reached under the TARDIS console, pulling out a vortex manipulator. Jack Harkness had gifted it to him as a joke, because he knew how much he hated the damn things. 

"When I finish telling you, I need you to put this on and press the button. When you do it, think of home - Earth, home." 

Clara nodded and took the leather bracelet from his hands. "Tell me." 

The Doctor turned and began to pace. This would be the hard part - he wasn’t even entirely sure he could do it.  _Be strong,_ he reminded himself,  _even if it breaks your hearts._ "Missy,” he began, “has been planning this since Danny.”

Clara flinched. They swore not to use that name around each other - it was too painful for one reason or another. 

“Do you remember what Danny did for you?" 

"Of course I do,” she snapped, suddenly annoyed that he’d not only bring it up, but question her on it. It didn’t matter that it was two years ago or that she never really loved him, he still gave up his life to save her. 

The Doctor stopped, seemed to think about it for a moment, then ran his hand through his silver hair. “Well, that’s what I’m about to do for you." 

Clara froze, trying to understand exactly what he’d just said. The pieces were falling into place, but she didn’t like the picture they were making and suddenly denial felt like the best option. "No,” she whispered. 

“Yes,” he said, giving her such a pained look it nearly broke her heart. “It’s why Missy has kept us together - for this moment. To really see what I’m made of, to really see how I feel about you.” The Doctor leaned back against the railings. “We both know that emotion destroys a cyberman - and what’s the strongest emotion of them all?" 

Her voice was thick. "Love." 

"Exactly.” The Doctor looked to his feet, “Danny’s love for you was enough to save one planet - once. But to kill this machine it’ll need something so strong it can save entire galaxies a thousand times over, throughout time and space." 

Clara felt sick. This couldn’t be happening -  _this_ couldn’t be the choice. "So what you’re saying is-" 

"Is that I love you, Clara Oswald and it’s the only thing strong enough to save the universe." 

"But you’ll die!” She screamed, the gentleness of his confession outweighed by the horror of what it meant. 

To that he nodded, almost un-phased. “I’m old, Clara. Everyone needs to die.”

She was shaking her head, tears streaming again. “No,  _no. Not_ you. Anyone, anything but you." 

"No one else but me,” he said, frowning at her as though he could see where her train of thought was going. 

Clara looked at him - looked deep into the storm blue eyes and knew what she had to do. She looked at his thick, silver hair, wiry - all limbs - body, glorious eyebrows and masterful hands and fell in love all over again. “I’ll do it,” she said. 

The Doctor looked mortified. “No-" 

"Why not? I love you. I love you more than you love me.” Clara ignored how offended he looked and carried on, “the universe needs you. It doesn’t need me. I’m just… a teacher turned time traveller." 

The Doctor was outraged. "How dare you say that-" 

"Well it’s true!” She interrupted, “don’t even argue. Just let me save you.”

“No,” The Doctor strode toward her and grabbed her wrist, trying to attach the vortex manipulator to it. Clara knew he was stronger than her, so she had to think fast. 

“Wait,” she said, “just wait a minute.” He paused, still holding onto her wrist. “If… If I have to go, let’s not end like this." 

His brows furrowed. "What do you mean?" 

She relaxed in his grip and closed the gap between them, staring up into his eyes. "I love you, Doctor.” With her free hand she reached up and grabbed the lapels of his blazer, pulling him down and kissing him full on the mouth. This was nothing new for the pair of them - after all, they’d been intimate for the past two years - but the way he relaxed into her kiss, letting her take charge and then giving a throaty growl when she she ran her tongue along his bottom lip, always made her heart swell. He still found her amazing - he still found each kiss as new and as wonderful as the first. 

But this wasn’t a kiss for pleasure - Clara, had other ideas. Soon she felt his grip on her wrist relax so distracting him by pushing against him harder, backing them against the TARDIS, Clara broke her other hand free. The Vortex manipulator fell to the floor and she kicked it under the TARDIS console with a flick of her foot. She kissed him for a little longer before finally pulling free -  _this_ would be the difficult part. 

Keeping eye contact with him she ran her hand that had been holding onto his lapels, under his blazer and up onto his shoulder, pushing the material from his body. It felt to the floor with a gentle thud.  _That’s the sonic screwdriver taken care of,_ she thought. She continued to run her fingernails down his arm in the slowest most seductive manner she could manage - luckily, The Doctor was lost to her touch. She reached his wrist and felt the cold metal of the handcuff that was still attached to him. Then, in one quick movement she placed her own wrist inside the free cuff and clamped it shut. 

“Clara!” The Doctor bellowed, looking down at their connected wrists. “What have you done? Give me the key." 

She stepped back as far as the chain would allow. "I can’t. I threw it away when I chained you to the rail." 

He reached for his sonic screwdriver, only to realise it was on the floor inside his jacket. "Clara Oswald you swore-" 

"Well, I lied." 

The Doctor was pained. He had to jump into the cybermachine, it was the only way to stop the universe from collapsing in on itself, but how could he do it knowing he’d be taking Clara with him? How could he save the world if it meant killing her? ” _Please,_ Clara.“ 

She shook her head. As hard as it was to deny him, she wasn’t about to let him die without her. "No." 

Now it was his turn to say the words no lover wanted to say to another. "But you’ll die." 

"With you." 

He let out an agonised moan. "I could regenerate. You can’t." 

And Clara nearly laughed. The was so  _not_ the point. "Regeneration is like dying. You said so yourself." 

"But I would still be me. I could still come and find you. I would just have a different face." 

"I don’t want a different face." 

The Doctor wasn’t angry - not really - but just incredibly confused. Caught in a situation with no happy ending hadn’t happened to him before. He could always save the day, but not this time - not without losing the most important person to him. "I can’t believe you’re doing this because of looks!" 

Clara whirled round and jabbed a finger at him. "That is  _not_ it." 

The Doctor scoffed. "Oh really?" 

"Yes really, you insufferable bastard.” Clara carried on, ignoring his look of shock at her swearing. “The person you could change into might still be The Doctor on paper, but he wont be  _you._ I don’t see you and the bow-tie you as the same man. Not really. Bow-tie was my best friend and when he changed into you, my best friend died.” The Doctor looked upset so she corrected her words. “And in his place I found my soulmate. Whatever man comes next could never live up to you." 

"Clara,” he said, his voice abnormally soft.

“Let me finish” she insisted. “And let’s just say I did love the new man, the new you, what is he doesn’t love me? How do you expect me to cope with that?" 

The Doctor grabbed her shoulders, his eyes burning into hers. "Do you think I care for you so little that a regeneration would make a difference?" 

Clara nearly let the tears that had been hiding fall, but she held strong. "Doctor, bow-tie loved River. And the man before him loved Rose. The other companions were just that - companions. You can’t promise the new man will love me. So don’t you dare say you can." 

The Doctor couldn’t argue, even though every bone in his body was telling him to. Clara was right, of course she was right, but did that justify her jumping to her death? "It wasn’t supposed to be like this,” he said. 

This time Clara did laugh and The Doctor questioned her sanity. “Of course it was,” she said. “You wouldn’t let me run into danger without you and I wouldn’t let you go without me. How else would the man who’d to go hell to save me, be separated from the woman who’d expect no less?" 

Again she had a point. The Doctor let her go and sighed. "You definitely won’t save yourself?" 

"Definitely won’t." 

"Right.” The Doctor was defeated - he took a deep breath and offered her his hand. “Shall we?" 

Clara took his hand, the cuffs clinking together the only sound. The irony was almost too much. They weren’t just emotionally chained, but now they were going to meet their end bound in the physical sense too. 

They walked in silence to the TARDIS doors - they were already hanging off from an encountered with a particularly nasty asteroid shower that Missy had conveniently sent the blue box into. In unison they peered down at the huge, ugly, metallic machine reminiscent of the jaws of a shark They watched for a few seconds as it swallowed the space around it in massive gnawing motions, spitting anything out that didn’t have life forms to convert.

Clara knew the mouth was where they had to go. Right into the heart, right into the painful certain death. She expected to get second thoughts, and she very nearly did. When she thought of all the adventures she wouldn’t have with him, all the years they could have spent together, all the lonely nights she could have spent in his arms - all the times she really needed to say 'I love you’ and watch his face light up - when she thought of that, she wished there was another way out. But there wasn’t and none of that would mean anything if  _he_ wasn’t around to share it with her. And when she looked over her grey-haired Doctor and saw the same fear in his eyes, she knew she was making the right choice. She loved him too much, too possessively, too wholly to let him die alone. All doubts vanished and she squeezed his hand tighter. 

"Are you okay?” he asked. 

She was honest. “No.”   

“Good. Some things we should never be okay with." 

Clara looked back at the decrepit TARDIS and sighed. "What will happen to her?" 

The Doctor followed her line of sight, giving his ship - his home, his constant friend - the most loving look he could muster. "If I regenerate, she will too. She’ll pick the new man up and get him to safety.” He chuckled, “then crash, just to give him a challenge." 

Clara was hesitant to ask. "And if you don’t?" 

"Then she’ll die too." 

And he said it with such sadness Clara was compelled to protest one last time. "Doctor, she doesn’t have to die. You don’t either. Just let me jump,  _alone._ " 

The Doctor turned back to her. His bottom lip was nearly trembling - but his eyes had a steely resolve. "No. Together,” he said, bringing up their chained hands and kissing her knuckles. “Or not at all.”

Clara felt hot tears run down her cheeks as she looked up at the man who had stolen her heart so completely and caressed his aged cheek. “I  _love_ you,” she said, knowing it would be the last time she ever said it - but also the time she meant it most. 

And this time The Doctor kissed her - winding his hands around her so tight their bodies felt like one, he kissed her with all he had. He kissed her for every moment they wouldn’t get to share, for every row they wouldn’t be able to have, for every night they’d never spend together, for every planet she’d never get to see. He kissed her because this was the last time he’d ever feel her petite frame pressed against his, it would be the last time he would taste the coffee and peppermint on her tongue and he was sure even in death he’d miss it. 

Clara’s arms went around the back of his head and she knotted her hands in his hair, relishing the silky feel of it through her fingers. And it took her a long time to let go. Both of them knew this would be the last anything, the last everything, so they took their time feeling each others bodies. Mapping each other out with their hands so it would be the very last thing either one ever thought. 

Finally,  _finally,_ they broke apart. Panting, their foreheads touching. Clara was brokenhearted to see a single streak mark of a tear down the Doctors cheek. 

“Thank you for making me feel special,” he said, the whiskey on his breath brushing her skin. 

Clara smiled - a real, breathtaking smile. “Thank you for exactly the same." 

Then the time for talking was over and the fate of the universe was all that remained. The beast below was waiting. 

The Doctor and Clara gripped onto each other as they tumbled out of the TARDIS doors and into the abyss - but neither were afraid, neither doubted their choice because even though this was their last moments, they were spending them together. 

And The Doctor and his Impossible Girl wouldn’t have had it any other way.


End file.
